Sara Bennett (22 page)

The fire in the grate was burning merrily. She went and held her hands to it, avoiding looking at him. The warmth helped a little, but the chill seemed to be inside her.

She did not hear him come up behind her, but when his hands rested upon her shoulders she jumped.
Oh please,
she thought, squeezing her eyes tight shut.
Don’t pounce on me now. I don’t think I could play at being the courtesan again so soon. Whatever strength I found has vanished. Where are you, seductress? Where have you gone now I need you?

“You should take off your cloak,” he said matter-of-factly. He didn’t sound as if he was going to rip off her clothes and fling her onto the bed. Vivianna allowed him to unfasten the cloak and slide it from her shoulders. “That’s better,” he said softly, and stirred a memory of those same words, spoken by her once, when they were also alone together.

“What is this place?”

“The Anchor. It’s famous for assignations between people who don’t want it known they are lovers. These
walls keep their secrets, and more importantly, so does the owner and his staff. Gloves.”

For a moment she didn’t understand him, and then she realized what he wanted and automatically held out her hands. He tugged off the gloves she had pulled back on before they exited the coach.

“I did not realize such places existed,” she said, avoiding his eyes.

He smiled, his handsome mouth curling upward, his eyes narrowing in that sleepy way that made her heart thud faster. “They’ve always existed,” he said. “Hairpins.”

Vivianna reached up and touched her braids. “Oh. I…”

“Never mind, I’ll do it.” He reached up and slipped out the pins, and her braids fell down her back. “Prince Albert wants to close places like the Anchor down,” he went on, as quickly he raked his fingers through her plaits, freeing the twists of hair, shaking it out into a thick chestnut curtain about her shoulders. “That’s better,” he whispered, and his eyes gleamed.

“Close them down?” Vivianna repeated nervously, glancing at him sideways. “Even Aphrodite’s Club?”

“Especially Aphrodite’s Club. Now your dress….” He was already unfastening the back, loosening the bodice. “He does not believe in immorality, and being a happily married man himself he does not think it necessary.”

“Can he do that? Close down Aphrodite’s? I do not like to think that Madame might be driven away from London.”

The dress slipped over her shoulders to her waist. She wasn’t wearing stays, but her chemise covered her adequately. “I think he would find that a great many of the court and the government are members of
Aphrodite’s,” Oliver said wryly. “Petticoats.” She felt his fingers on the ties, and the dress and petticoats fell to the floor at her feet.

She was almost naked, Vivianna realized with surprise. He had stripped her after all, and she had been too involved in his conversation to really notice. But now the fire was warm against her bare arms and through the thin silk of her chemise. Only his hands were warmer. He knelt at her feet and, already having removed her slippers, had wrapped his fingers about her ankle. He looked up at her, his eyes very dark.

“Stockings,” he said quietly. Vivianna bit her lip as he ran his fingers up over the curve of her calf to her knee, and found the ribbon that kept her stocking from falling down. The bow undone, he drew the stocking down over her bare skin slowly, caressing her with his movements. She lifted her foot for him, her hand upon his shoulder for balance. He smiled, and then proceeded to remove the other stocking.

Vivianna found her breathing had quickened. Her skin was tingling with awareness, flushed from the fire’s heat. There was an ache in her breasts, and the place between her legs throbbed a little, so that she wanted to squeeze her thighs together.

“Now,” Oliver said, rising once more to his feet, “that leaves your chemise.”

“Oliver,” she gasped, “I don’t know if—”

“I want to see you naked,” he said implacably, and ran his hands down over her bare arms, smoothing her creamy flesh.

“I find I am suddenly shy,” she said stiffly. “Silly, I know, after what we have just done.”

He didn’t laugh, although he bit his lip. Vivianna gave him a narrowed look, and he appeared contrite. “I’m sorry. You’re so beautiful, so exactly perfect, I
didn’t think you could be shy.” His hands reached to encircle her waist, then cupped the rounded cheeks of her bottom. “All perfect,” he murmured, and pressed his body against hers. Vivianna could feel him jutting against her belly, hard and erect, and she knew he wanted her, and the thought of it brought a hot flood of sensation to her own body, chasing away the doubts.

His hands were cupping her breasts now, squeezing gently, molding the flesh to his palms. “Gorgeous,” he whispered, and kissed the curve of her shoulder where it joined her neck. Vivianna tilted her head and shivered, and then groaned as he tugged at her nipples. One of his hands stroked downward, over the swell of her belly and down, down to the soft curls between her thighs.

“Oh yes,” he growled softly, and stroked her there boldly through the silken cloth of the chemise. “Perfect.”

Vivianna groaned, arching her back, opening her legs for him.

Her head was spinning, and it was a moment before she realized it was, because he had lifted her up in his arms and was carrying her toward the bed. An opulent piece of furniture, the bed was a four-poster with draperies in the deepest cherry red and a thick, soft quilt of the same color. A mountain of pillows and bolsters were piled at the head. Oliver swung her over the mattress and lay her down, and before she could even move a muscle, he had captured the hem of her chemise and stripped her of her final piece of clothing.

She lay naked, sprawled before him.

But instead of joining her, he stood over her, his gaze moving, caressing her, heating her flesh. The way he stared should have intimidated her, but it didn’t. There was so much admiration and desire in his dark
eyes, she felt beautiful and seductive. He had made her the woman she wanted to be, and now as he looked upon her, Vivianna stretched voluptuously, thrusting up her breasts, arching her back.

“Oh yes,” he drawled, “I like it when you do that. I like it very much.” There was no disguising the hot need in his face as he began to undress. He pulled off his jacket and then his white shirt, tossing them both on the floor. Then he unbuttoned his trousers and stripped them down over his strong legs, until he stood as naked as she.

Vivianna ogled him. She couldn’t help it. She had never seen a naked man before. The sight of him caught in her chest, made her senses swim. He was tall and broad-shouldered, and his chest was hard-muscled and dark-haired. His belly was flatter than hers and his hips leaner, and his thighs strong and firm, and between them rose the part of him she had stroked and petted in the darkness of the coach.

Vivianna shivered, and suddenly the air in the room seemed heavier, hotter. Oliver came and stood at the edge of the bed and clasped her knees, opening her legs wide and drawing her toward him. She thought of struggling, but he was gazing upon her most intimate places with such a fierce, hungry look that she was shaken. He stooped and covered her with his mouth.

“Oliver!” she wailed. The pleasure was intense, and suddenly she knew that she wasn’t going to be able to stop the rippling, pounding climax that was about to take over her.

When she came back to herself, he had pulled her over to the side of the bed so that her legs dangled down. It was a very high bed, exactly the right height
so that when he lifted her hips and moved between her thighs, he was able to slide his cock into her.

Vivianna gasped. She wanted to look away, but there was something completely and utterly fascinating about the sight of his body entering hers, sliding so slickly into her and out again. The muscles in his arms tightened, his thighs were hard and tense as he held her before him. A living, breathing, and oh so willing sacrifice. Oliver’s hands gripped her more firmly and he quickened his pace, thrusting still deeper. He was watching, too, his narrow, sensuous gaze fixed upon the joining of their bodies, and Vivianna could tell it excited him as much as her.

She realized that her passion was building again, when only a moment ago she had thought herself limp with completion. “I didn’t think a man could make love more than once a night,” she gasped.

“This man can,” he growled.

And suddenly she knew she wanted to touch him, to press against him, to be in his arms. Vivianna pushed up with her hands on the mattress, struggling to sit, and immediately he stopped and drew her to him. He lifted her from the bed as if she weighed a feather, and she clung to his neck, her legs wrapped tight above his hips. Then he turned and sat upon the bed and eased across it, supporting her. Vivianna found herself seated in his lap facing him, her thighs resting upon his, her body still joined with his.

His skin was rough against hers, especially the dark hair of his chest. She bent her head and licked at him, tasting his salty sweat. And then the powerful muscles of his legs and arms cradled her, and he bent his head and claimed her mouth in a hot, erotic kiss.

Her breasts ached, and she pressed them against
him, enjoying the friction. She tangled her fingers in his dark hair, her mouth feeding from his, and let the moment slide. Slowly, in no hurry now, Vivianna moved against him, feeling the heavy length of him inside her, her sheath holding him tightly. He clasped her hips and thrust back, deeper, urging her to mimic his movements, and soon they were lost in the pleasure of their bodies and the only sounds in the room apart from the crackle of flames were gasps and groans and soft cries of completion.

Later, he fed her with pieces of food and dribbled champagne over her and licked it off her again. Vivianna laughed and lay atop his body, smiling down into his half-closed and decidedly wicked eyes. He taught her to ride him from on top and held her tight when she thought she was going to fly into the night sky with the wonder of it. And he bathed her body with warm scented water and patted her dry with a towel, and spooned her against him when she slept.

Vivianna had never felt so pampered, so replete, so wonderfully alive. She did not think of tomorrow. She did not want to. This was a moment out of time, a dream that could have no place in the real world. To think that anything more was possible was to let in pain and hurt, and Vivianna was too clever for that.

She had her rake and he had been more than she had hoped for, but soon they must part forever.

“Vivianna?”

Oliver was shaking her gently. “Vivianna, we must go.” He was helping her up, pulling her clothing on, lifting her arms as if she were as helpless as a rag doll. Her body was stiff and sore, and once or twice she caught her breath in pain. “Poor sweetheart,” he mur
mured, and kissed her temple, but she felt that he was mocking her, just a little.

He was a rake, after all, and Vivianna knew that you couldn’t trust rakes.

When they reached the coach and climbed inside, she moved to her own corner, but he wasn’t done with her yet. He sat beside her and pulled her into his arms.

She gave a feeble protest, but he laughed.

“I won’t touch you if you don’t want me to, Vivianna. I want to tell you something.”

“I’m sore, Oliver. I don’t say it wasn’t worth it, but I don’t think…What do you want to tell me?” She glanced up at his profile in the darkness.

“I want to tell you something very important. Are you listening?”

Suddenly he sounded so serious. She felt uneasy. “I’m listening,” she said warily.

“Good. I want you to stay away from Lord Lawson. He is an extremely dangerous man. Do you understand? I am going to tell you something now that you must not repeat to anyone, especially not Lord Lawson.”

“What is it?”

“Lawson killed my brother.”

Weariness and shock combined to make it difficult for her to take in what he had said, but she did her best. “You mean it was an accident?”

“No, I mean he murdered him. Anthony had something Lawson wanted, something that would cause the ruin of his political career, and he killed him for it.”

He was serious.

“Is that what you meant when you said you were going to avenge your brother? You meant Lord Lawson?”

“Yes. I’m going to bring him down, Vivianna. I’m
going to see him in a court of law, and then I want him hanged by the neck.”

His voice was cold and deadly, and Vivianna suddenly had no doubt he meant what he said. This was an Oliver she had not seen before and it shocked her. Where was the rake with the lazy smile and mocking stare? Confused, she forced herself to listen as he went on.

“The night Anthony died he was coming to see me, to ask my advice. Some letters had come into his possession, letters concerning his friend Lord Lawson. Anthony did not feel comfortable about them, and he had thus far refused to return them to Lawson. But Celia was there, and Anthony walked out and made his way to Candlewood and the letters were forgotten. But not by Lawson. He followed Anthony there. I don’t know exactly what happened. I suspect he demanded that Anthony return the letters and Anthony again refused. Perhaps he had decided to make them public. Lawson shot him, trying to make it seem like suicide, and then he looked for the letters. Only he couldn’t find them. And over the following weeks and months he continued to search and still he could not find them.”

Vivianna found her voice. “Where are they?”

“At Candlewood. My grandfather had a secret chamber built and Anthony knew of it. I suspect they are in there.”

“And you don’t—”

“No, I don’t know where it is. I plan to take Candlewood apart stone by stone until I find it.”

“What if you don’t?”

Oliver looked down at her, and he was a stranger. All the warmth had gone from him. Suddenly she un
derstood the sense of aloneness she had felt the first time she met him.

“I will. That is why Candlewood must be demolished, stone by stone, brick by brick.”

Candlewood would not be saved. It could never be saved. She had been working toward something that was an impossibility in Oliver’s eyes. Her heart plummeted with the realization, and suddenly she felt like a fool.